


shadows all around you

by toushindai (WallofIllusion)



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Gen, Implied very vague reference to stillbirth, Mention of Hades/Persephone, Pre-Canon, as always: nyx/persephone if you squint, but they haven't named the feelings yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/pseuds/toushindai
Summary: A demonstration of how Nyx will keep Persephone safe.
Relationships: Nyx & Persephone (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	shadows all around you

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from The Hush Sound's "You Are the Moon."

As they sat in the garden together, Nyx demonstrated how she would keep Persephone safe.

(In the garden, because Persephone had not returned to the chambers she shared with Hades since the tragedy; the two of them, because Hades refused to speak to her, even see her. Nyx said it was because he blamed himself for what had happened. Persephone never blamed him. She only wanted someone to sit with her and grieve. Nyx, stepping up to responsibility when Hades would not, had done her best, but there was nothing here for Persephone anymore. She had to escape.)

Nyx placed a small, round stone on the bench between them and then returned her hands to her lap.

“You see the stone, my Queen?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Do not let your gaze stray from it.”

And then the stone was gone.

At first Persephone thought it must have been some sleight of hand rather than Nyx’s power. Nyx said that she would cloak her in darkness, but there was no unusual darkness here; there was simply no stone where there had been a stone a moment ago. And, Persephone felt, it mattered little. Once the stone was out of her sight, it felt unimportant that there had been a stone at all. A demonstration of Nyx’s power: well, it had been demonstrated, and now they could both move on. Persephone raised her eyes to say so, but a serene nod from Nyx directed her gaze back downward.

“Observe, Persephone,” she said, and with a ripple of light the stone bloomed again on the bench and—

“Oh,” Persephone said, because with Nyx’s magic lifted, she could tell that the concealing power had affected not only her vision but her thoughts as well, turning them away from knowledge and curiosity as subtly as the shifting of the moon. A little chill went through her, although she could see how such a power would benefit her and keep her safe.

“Will he forget me, then?” she asked with a slight quiver in her voice.

But Nyx was quick to reassure her. “No. My power is not inviolable, nor does it pluck thoughts from anyone’s head quite so readily.” She took the stone into her palm. “I will demonstrate: for only a moment, think of this not as a stone but as the something that contains a mysterious power: the only currency Charon will accept to ferry you out of the Underworld. This stone, and no other, for reasons beyond your ken or even mine. And now…”

The stone vanished once more from Nyx’s hand, as simply as it had the first time. But this time, Persephone felt that her curiosity stayed with her. She wished to know how Nyx performed such magic; she wondered who might see through it; she worried, just a thin flicker of concern, that the stone might actually be gone and with it her chance to leave this dark place behind her.

“Do you see?” Nyx asked.

“Well, not really,” Persephone said with wry humor, “but if you’re asking me if I understand, then I think I do. Because the stone means something to me now, my mind at least holds onto the thought of it?”

“Yes. I cannot obscure what the light of familiarity and real interest illuminates. And…”

She took Persephone’s hand and placed it over her own. There, beneath her palm, Persephone felt it: the stone, round and flat. Undeniable, unmistakable. Nyx’s hand had not warmed it, and it was cold against her skin.

“My power is not limitless, my Queen. I cannot conceal you from all notice. You will still have to hide.”

There was a sadness in her voice that Persephone could not let herself think about. Instead she thought of Nyx’s touch, the solidity and inviolability of it. It had always been thus: from the moment Persephone first met her, she had felt that Nyx was more real than anything else she had ever encountered. To be subject to her gaze was to feel perceived by the world itself. To be subject to her care was to feel seen, and yet safe. A sudden grief, different in tenor from what had wracked her body since the tragedy, pierced Persephone’s heart then. There were things here she would miss. There were people here she would miss.

But she could not stay.

“I understand, Nyx,” she said then. “I’ll fend for myself as well.”

*

There is no telling how long has passed since then. Long enough for Persephone to build her own cottage on the surface, long enough to plant her own garden. The climate is cold here on the banks of the Styx, inhospitable to what Persephone wishes to grow, but she is not a goddess for nothing: she urges her power into the ground and it rewards her with warmth and life. She is happy. Content enough. No one knows to look for her here, and so, just as Nyx showed her with the stone, no one thinks to see her even when they pass by. There has been the occasional lost traveler who would not have lived if not for her intervention—the offer of a warm meal and a night indoors—and to them, Persephone calls out, daring to invite their attention, but even they forget her once they have gone. A drop of the Lethe in their breakfast, from a vial Persephone dipped into the river on her journey out of the Underworld, guarantees it.

She is content enough, here. Content to work the ground under her feet while time moves on its circling path overhead. Most evenings, she sits in her garden to watch night fall. There is a subtle waxing and waning to Nyx’s protective power—infinitely subtle, but in the evenings Persephone has little else to do but observe, so observe it she has. She feels Nyx’s power strengthen as Helios’s chariot dips below the horizon. She feels it wrap around her like a blanket, not warm or cold but undeniably present, and familiar. She thinks of that night in the garden, of the small, round stone, and of Nyx’s hands around hers, more solid and real than anything else in the world.


End file.
